Linda M. Crate

i hope i can be forgiven i know i should
have called you first,
but i was dying to get to you
as if death were to be my mate if you could not
embrace me with your arms or to crash your
lips into mine like an
angry ocean wave slamming into rocks;
i´ve always been dramatic,
and i know you hate that about me
sometimes i hate it, too—
yet now is not the time or moment to waste
on such a frivolous notion as that
they say time is of the essence
all i want is to feel
your love washed all over me like a mermaid
ensconced by the sea shore letting
petals of her humanity embrace her as she lets the waves
kiss her in ways it never can when she
dances beneath it´s waves;
perhaps, it would be easier to say that i love you,
but father always said i did things the hard way
why should i change now?